Pointless Pornography
by Judy Puncinella
Summary: IzMk- Izaya masturbates and Mikado mopes, that is all there is to it, really.
1. Chapter 1

Responce to this request:

Izaya masturbates while thinking about Humanity and is shocked when Mikado comes into his thoughts.

Whatever you do from there is up to you Anons

Kudos if the A!A makes him take action on these thoughts

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><p>Izaya watched them from the window, humans, his trousers unbuttoned, his hands wrapped around his penis. There was no pleasure in it, anymore, humanity doesn't arouse him as it once did, his orgasm were less powerful, there was nothing. He moaned for a while, as he got use to the sensation of his cold fingers on his warm cock. It wasn't out of pleasure, he knew, but the sharp biting of the cold. Is he falling out of love with humanity? No, it isn't that, it can't be that. It is what sustains his work, what continues to sustain him- his lust for immortality, his drive, all his goals- there would be no point to it without humanity. Another moan, why was he still doing this? It felt obligatory now, like he has to do this, he does this to confirm that he still loves humanity. He gained no pleasure from it, yet, he must continue to pretend to- for whom? For whom does he keep this stupid act? No one was watching him, no one can see him. Maybe he does this for himself- no- ridiculous, he knows that it has long ceased being pleasurable. Izaya pumped slowly, gradually speeding up. No, he doesn't like it, his body has since tired of it, and wanting him to stop, yet, here he was, still wanking away- against both his reason and his baser instincts. He finally let go, his penis still half flaccid.<p>

"Lo, I teach you the Ubermensch." He softly laughed, "He that can't even sin correctly."

Izaya sat down again, rummaging through his piles and piles of paper. Mikado, he thought. He remember when he had those soft locks of hair burying his hands, when that deceptively childish face and those guiling and innocent eyes were his, that dependence, that gentleness, that naiveté- Izaya smiled at the thought. Their picture was still on his desk- no, it's no good, Izaya thought, as he planted the picture down, there was nothing in reminiscing. He was the one to break off the relationship- and why shouldn't he? Mikado was, despite his maturity, still a child, was, despite his depths, still too unworldly, and he, he cannot afford to have something to baggage him down. No, it was stupid to hide himself from it. He put the picture back up, standing, as it did, and, Izaya thinks, as it shall always will. He does miss him, and no matter how much he acts otherwise, he is capable of regret. Mikado, he thinks to himself, they never went kissing and risqué suggestions- how would it have been to have actually had sex with him? Izaya was hard again, he wraps his fingers around it, pumping it, slowly, Mikado, he was inexperience, he would try to hide it from him, Mikado trusted him, yet Mikado knew he shouldn't trust him- he was always like that, Izaya fondly thought, he would always put on three layers for the both of them, one that was passive and sweet on the outside, one aggressive in the inside, and, below that, one that naively trusts him for the world, the one that Mikado tried, with all his heart, to kill.

"Mikado," Izaya moaned, and he moved faster and faster. Did his love shift from humanity to Mikado? No, no, it didn't matter. Mikado trusts him- maybe that is what led him to love him. Nobody trusted him. Kida didn't trust him, he trusted Saki- Mikado, he trusted him completely, even when he knows he shouldn't. Humanity doesn't trust him either, they all hate him. Mikado still completely trusts him, he has given him his heart- Izaya relished that feeling, for someone to act beyond sense and trust him with something that important. "Mikado," Izaya moaned again as he came. He looked at the sticky web of cum on his fingers, "Mikado, I'm sorry."


	2. Chapter 2

Mikado gently accepted a kiss from him. He barely knows him, a boy who confessed to him with scented notes and flowers in his locker, which was terribly charming and terribly cliché, and terribly charming in its cliché. He smiled for a moment, revelling in the gentle winds. He's being terribly cliché as well, though not half so charming. He looks away at the distant buildings of the Shinjuku, those steel Babels gleaming in the midday sun, wondering if Izaya is watching this, hoping he is here to see him here, lip to lip, and hands clasped over hand, with this total stranger now, hoping that he would be jealous. Then he will regret breaking up with him, regret what he did to him—but no, truth is he was used, and he knows he was used, and he let himself be used. Izaya doesn't miss him, he was a toy, and when Izaya got bored with him, he threw him out, and left him broken beside his other rubbish. But this boy doesn't know better, he thinks he is dating the bashful, considerate, and sweet Mikado, the unworldly and unsuspecting class representative, ready to be snared like a guileless hind.

"Mikado-kun, are you ready yet?" The boy stammered through the question, embarrassed, desperate yet still pretending that there is more to their relationship than the carnal. It was like all things about him, charming, and cliché, and charming in his cliché. Mikado smiled gently at him, this terrible façade of innocence, half blushing at revulsion at the very thought of his suggestion. "I mean it's okay if you're not ready yet."

That was all he was to him, a body, a pretty face, there was nothing that substantiates their relationship beyond this, and he lusts after him and, himself, he is ever searching for vengeance. Mikado kissed the boy, a sign that he isn't ready yet, but will be soon. Soon, days away, weeks away, months, years, soon, soon his wait will be over, and he will have his way, and, tiring of him, leave him, fucked and abandoned, and neither will be better for it.

"I will wait." He whispers, caressing in false tenderness. Yes, he will wait, he will tire of him, but he will wait, and then he will finally break, and, inflamed by passion, he will finally get his chance, and what then? Mikado reddens in anger. He is the one that is causing it, and he is the one that is allowing it, he is completely and fully conscious of it. He passed it off as his shyness and prudishness.

The boy has gone off to get an Ice Cream for them, and, knowing him, it would probably be something as corny as getting a single cone so they may eat it together. "Izaya…" Mikado whispers to himself, hidden by a sigh. Mikado doesn't love this boy, he is repulsed by him, by his desires, by his dishonesty, and, still, he is dating him. All to spite Izaya, who probably doesn't even care.

Mikado laughs at this, as the sun falls behind the lifeless grey towers, lighting themselves up in vain attempt to imitate the all conquering sun. "I still love him, don't I?"

And looking at the distant moon in the reddish-purple sky, he smiled bitterly. "And this is why I am stupid."


End file.
